


Making an Honest Woman

by doctorpluto



Category: Elder Scrolls
Genre: Argonians, Arranged Marriage, Domestication, F/M, Gender or Sex Swap, Marriage, Mind Control, Other, Pregnancy, Transformation, housewife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 03:14:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10324313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctorpluto/pseuds/doctorpluto
Summary: Another commission. A brash thief becomes a domesticated Argonian housewife.





	

As he picked the lock, Nyxilis smiled. He could feel it in his gut that this was going to be an easy job. Just sneak in, take the Pearl of Anolis, and clear out. He swung the window open and dropped down inside the mansion, his ebony-colored cloak flowing behind him. He pulled the hood back, revealing his short raven hair and boyish face. He looked around, his eye shining icy blue in the dark. Before him was a long red-brick hallway, rows of identical doors on either side. He made his way in and out of each room, looking all over, keeping a hand on his sheathed dagger. His sweep turned up nothing of consequence. He found gold, which he had plenty of from other contracts, and none of the items about the manor was worth the effort of carrying out. He slowly rounded the corner as his eyes fell upon a statue of a lizard woman. It was a curious decoration, but quite well made, with each scale and curve of its voluptuous body lovingly sculpted in minute detail. He smirked as he walked around it, his gaze lingering on the stature’s shapely rump for a while.

He had made his way to a dining room of sorts, with a long, wide table decorated with a velvet shawl and bronze candelabra when he heard movement. He crouched behind a glass-doored cupboard filled with silver cups and plates and listened, it was a pair of heavier steps like a man’s, but accompanied by the soft click-click of long claws. He drew his blade, running his gloved thumb over the red jewel in the handle for luck. He turned the dagger around in his hand, blade at the ready as he waited. And he waited, the footsteps drew closer… then passed. He stayed there for a while, until before he was sure that they were gone, whoever ‘they’ were. Nyxilis rose, the soft blue fabric lining the inside of his cloak brushing against his arm.

At the far ending of the dining room was a hallway leading to an important looking set of double doors, an arabesque design carved onto the ivory insets above a strong looking brass lock. This had to be it, had to be. The foolish nobles of this land always kept their most treasured possessions in the most ostentatious part of the estate. He approached it carefully; the corridor leading up to the door itself was a bottleneck, with no place to run if he was caught. He examined the double doors to find them unlocked, He opened the left door just enough for him to step through… and he immediately stepped onto a pressure plate hidden beneath the wine-colored carpet. Before he could react or even think to react, a pair of enchanted ropes sprang forth and lunged at him. The first rope coiled around his arms, binding them to his side so tightly he could feel their pressure beneath his forest-green tunic. The other bound his legs, looping around his thighs and ankles, sending him to the floor.  
He cursed under his breath as he lay there. If he could just reach his dagger, he could cut himself free and...  
His thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a tall, thin man approaching him from the other side of the hoard room. He recognized the man’s lean face, his beak-like nose, his red velvet cloak. It was Perrault, his contact for this job!

“Perrault, you dog!” Nyxilis spat. “Untie me and I’ll forgive this little prank.”

The man just laughed and stroked his scarred chin. “I’m afraid I cannot do that.”

“What?”

“When you left, I struck up a deal with the owner of this manor.” Perrault said. “Your attitude has caused enough problems already.” He waved his hand and a tall, muscular Argonian in a vermillion cloak walked up beside him. The reptile looked down at Nyxilis, and the thief looked back into his amber-colored eyes. None spoke for a few seconds.  
“Is this my bride to be?” The Argonian asked, pointing at the bound intruder. Perrault nodded and flashed Nyxilis a grin that made his blood turn cold. 

“Bride? What is this?” Nyx said.

“My client here is very wealthy, but he has no one to share it with.” Perrault said, a smug grin spreading across his weathered face. “And you will fill that void.”

“As a sex slave?” 

The thief struggled against his bindings. The more the thrashed about like a landed trout, the tighter the enchanted ropes clung to him.  
“As his wife.”

Nyxilis’ face blanched. “Wife?” He cried. “You intend to marry me off to a lizard?”

“Exactly, but only after you’ve had an ‘attitude adjustment. You’re hardly housewife material as you are.” Perrault said. “Salazer, show your new bride the Pearl of Anolis.”  
And the Argonian pulled from his cloak a long pendant on a chain. In the center of the golden pendant was a huge glossy pearl, easily the size of a hen’s egg and perfectly round. The pearl shone many colors as the reptile swayed it side to side in front of Nyxilis, streaks of pink, silver, and sea green… all dancing together on the pearl’s surface. Its magic took hold of Nyx easily, as the thief felt himself falling into the soft, placid confines of a trance. He felt himself sinking into restful, dreamless sleep as his eyes grew heavy and fell shut.

He awoke some time later feeling like he had been on a bender. He opened his eyes and rolled over, he felt groggy, sick to his stomach. He rolled over in the bed and saw Salazar curled up next to him; his teal scales shiny even in the early morning twilight. The Argonian rolled over and wrapped his arms around the thief. He had muscles fit for a prizefighter, as Nyxilis squirmed and rolled in bed but nothing he did managed to free him from Salazar’s grip.

“Good morning honey,” the reptile whispered. His voice was raspy, but affectionate. Nyx let out a low, angry sigh.

“I am not your honey.”

“Not yet,” Salazar said, nuzzling into his neck. “You still need an attitude adjustment.”

Attitude adjustment? What on earth was this monster trying to do? Before Nyx could ponder that further, he felt himself being scooped up in the Argonian’s arms and carried across the room like a housecat. Salazar set him down and Nyxilis stood up, glaring indignantly at the seven-foot tall reptile. The beast had some nerve, to just take him as a wife like some far-east despot. Salazar smiled at the man as he opened a large cherry wood armoire and dug out a dress that was the same deep forest green as his tunic, a pair of sheer stockings, and an apron. The lizard handed the clothes to him with some flourish, like the clothes were an important gift. 

“A good wife must dress elegantly.” The reptile said and gazed into Nyx’s mismatched eyes. The thief tried to look away, tried to… but he found himself gazing deeper into those topaz colored eyes and he lost focus for a while. He blinked and pulled himself away from his gaze, blushing. Whatever magic this lizard had, he would have to work harder to resist.

“Where are the undergarments?” Nyxilis remarked smugly. “Surely a lady’s outfit is not complete without something frilly underneath.”

“Oh you’re right,” Salazar grinned, “which is why you’re wearing them now.” And Nyx felt something on his loins, something tight and soft he hadn’t really been aware of until then. He hooked his thumb around his midnight gray trousers and looked down inside them, and he sure enough discovered that he was wearing a pair of soft pink satin panties. He knit his brow and blushed, much to the amusement of the Argonian. How could Perrault do this to him? 

He looked down at the panties again. At the very least, a master thief like him deserved a fancier pair, like the silk kind with lace. Salazar ran his longer fingers, his glossy black claws through Nyx’s hair as the thief stood there fuming. Then, the Argonian slid a golden necklace around his neck. His skin tingled as he felt the scaly hands clasp the cool chain around his neck, the Pearl of Anolis itself hung from it, sparkling beautifully as if it had its own inner radiance.

“What are you doing, lizard? I am not a doll for you to play dress-up with!”

Salazar waggled his finger like the thief was no more than an unruly kid. “Now now, honey. For our marriage to work, you need to cooperate.”  
“You can make Perrault into your little whore, I’m out!” Nyxilis spat at the reptile as he stomped of the bedchamber. The nerve, the absolute nerve of them… To treat a master thief like some trophy wife, to betray him during a job… He made his way down the snaking, labyrinthine halls of Salazar’s manor. He found the entry point, the pantry with the window he broke in. He had no more grabbed the window sill when the necklace Salazar put on him started to glow an intense angry red. A surge of icy, harsh pain flashed through his body, like he was caught in a storm of razor blades. He fell to the floor in a heap, the carpet doing little to cushion his drop.

He turned over on his side, his nerves still buzzing from the shock. He saw Salazar’s scaly feet, his long black toe-claws step in front of him. The thief looked up and the Argonian smiled down at him, his smile was warm, a sort of paternalistic fondness creeping through it. Salazar reached down and Nyx took his hand, feeling an unwelcome bit of pleasure at the feel of his cool scaly hand on his skin, his long claws gently tickling his wrist.  
“Now will you cooperate like a good wife?”

“I told you,” Nyx hissed between gritted teeth, “I am not your…” and then Salazar pushed into a kiss. The thief felt a deeply unwanted tingle when his lips met Salazar’s own thin, scaly pair. The reptile’s kiss was smooth and dry, with his breath reeking of fish and pungent spices. Why was he enjoying it? Nyxilis’ mind reeled, some part of him was trying to coax him into doing things, to take Salazar in his arms and deepen the kiss, with their tongues dancing together.  
The reptile pulled back, licking the thief’s cheek as he did so. His tail thumped against the carpet as he spoke: “Good girl… Now let’s get you changed out of those dowdy clothes.”

“Good girl,” the thief repeated. Those two words stuck in his head, he didn’t know why. What he did know very well was that he had to get the necklace off, it had to be the source of the strange feelings and thoughts that were invading his mind, buzzing around in his consciousness like gnats. Nyxilis scratched at an itch on the back of his neck, and when he scratched, the sensation spread out and down his shoulders and over his body, his arms and legs. The sensation was prickly, like a wave of ants crawling around on his skin. A scaly, olive green rash, unnoticed by the thief, broke out on his neck. All he felt was a spreading blanket of dry itchiness creeping over and into his skin. His lower back started to ache, the seat of his pants felt tight. He reached back to adjust his trousers to let some of the building pressure off, only to be greeted with a loud, sudden rip as a thick, tapering appendage burst free from the confines of his clothing and sending his trousers down around his knees in a heap of shredded fabric.

The thing pulled out of the base of his spine inch by inch as his nerves buzzed with pleasure. Why was he enjoying it? His knees shook as he saw the mossy green scales spreading down his knees. He turned around to find out what was growing out of him, and his eyes almost popped out of their sockets when he saw the tail—a long, tapering whip-like lizard tail with shiny bottle-green scales exactly like the ones spreading over him like a psoriatic rash.  
“What did you do…” he hissed through aching teeth. Nyx grabbed Salazar by the collar of his white satin nightshirt, screaming, red faced under the diamond-shaped reptile scales encroaching up his cheeks. “What did you do?”

“Oh come now,” the Argonian said, “you look lovely in green.”  
The thief opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted by a short, sharp sunburst of heat between his legs that flowed up into his abdomen. Nyxilis shuddered and leaned against the wall, his legs feeling limp as the burning in his loins turned to a persistent ache. He didn’t want to look; he didn’t want to look…  
He looked down and saw what was left of his manhood, two pitiful inches pulling back into a moist, puffy slit as the glossy forest green scales swallowed up his fair skin.  
The Argonian lifted Nyx’s tunic and stuck a finger in the thief’s new womanhood. Nyx bit his lip and felt his whole body shudder as he felt the tip of Salazar’s claw gently tickling his insides. Why did it feel good? The Argonian pushed Nyxilis back over an old chair and slid a dark-colored sheer stocking up his left leg. The feeling of the cool, thin nylon on his scaly feet gave him a rush as Salazar slid the other one on. Nyx wanted more than anything to fight it, but his body… his damned body would not cooperate. His toenails blackened and narrowed into reptilian claws as he wiggled his toes under the darkened French-style soles of the stockings. 

Everything below his waist was reptilian as his hips pushed outwards into child-bearing curves. He felt a rush of warmth as his waist pulled inward, further accentuating his ample curves, his bubble butt. Nyxilis blushed and moaned, his slit felt so needy… for just a short moment, he caught himself wishing the Argonian would just take him and have his way with him.  
He felt his hair thinning out, the scales were going down his arms now. Salazar took the front of his tunic in his claws and with a powerful downward thrust, Nyxilis’ tunic tore open, letting a pair of small, growing mounds beneath his nipples push outwards into pert breasts.  
The thief shuddered and moaned as she… he watched the breasts grow, inch by inch, cup size by cup size, until they were perfectly big and perky. Salazar leaned in and licked Nyx’s now-dark green nipple, sending a flash of unwanted pleasure up her… his spine.

“If you want to make me your concubine, just take me already!” Nyxilis yelled, his façade cracking apart as a mix of fear and lust crept into his voice. Salazar just chuckled as he watched the pearl glow once more. Nyx’s jaw ached as he felt his face push outward into a short, sloping snout as the scales crept up his face and his black hair felt out lock after lock. His nose shrank into his muzzle until all that remained of it was a pair of sensitive nostril slits taking in the scent of her husband… He shook his head, throwing off the last of his hair. That wasn’t right, none of this was right. He looked down at his hands, his green, scaly, very feminine clawed hands.  
He sighed through her… his nostrils as tears welled up in his eyes.

“Why?” The thief hissed.

“You’re my wife,” the Argonian said, presenting a hand mirror. Nyxilis took it and his heart nearly stopped when he saw a curvy lizard woman staring back at him. He didn’t even remotely look human, or male for that matter. He couldn’t be seen like this, what would his contacts say?

“What did you do to me?”

Salazar chuckled. “Like I said, you are my wife.”

“Your wife…” Nyx said. He took a moment to mull that word over, it sounded nicer than it did a while ago, and it was only too true he couldn’t go back to human society in his current state. He made up his mind, he would agree to act as Salazar’s wife until he found a way to change back and get even with Perrault. Yes, that sounded right to her.

“I accept.” Nyx said, thumping her tail against the chair leg. 

“Good to know,” the Argonian smiled. “Now why don’t you get dressed and clean up around here?” And so he said, so did Nyx nod in agreement. Salazar helped her up and handed over a sunny yellow dress, knee length with a high collar and thin straps without sleeves. As the thief pulled the dress over his head and awkwardly slid it down over his body, he couldn’t help but smile. It was a very nice dress, looking so good against his olive green scales. 

“Now, Natasha…” Salazar said, stroking the thief’s cheek with the back of his hand. “I’d like for you to sweep the floors. The maid has taken the day off, you see.”  
She nodded. This would give her plenty of time to work out an escape route, she thought it over as he handed her a broom and sent her to her work with a firm pat on the rump. She swept the floors, taking care to get the layout of the mansion good and memorized. After a while, the lizard girl settled into a pleasant rhythm, swishing her tail back and forth as she worked and humming a little song to herself. The sight of the clean floor left her with a sense of pride and satisfaction, not only would this get the Argonian to trust Natasha—  
She caught herself. Nyxilis, her name was Nyxilis. She tried to drill that name into her head, but it kept slipping, that was not a name for a lady… not as good as Natasha. But it was her name… she was a woman, no! She was a woman. This didn’t feel quite right.  
She stood up, closed her eyes, and said it: “I am a woman.”

That wasn’t right either, she felt panic rising in her breast as she tried again. “I’m not a man, I am a woman. No… no… I’m a woman.” She took a deep breath and tried again and again, every time the thought came out the same way. Something was keeping her from saying it. Why couldn’t she say it?

“Something wrong, honey?” she heard Salazar say behind her. The Argonian went up behind her and put his big hands on her shoulders, massaging them gently. She leaned back against him, a grin spread across her thin reptilian lips.

“Oh nothing, just trying to adjust,” Natasha said. Maybe she could convince him to come with her, it had been such a long time since she had an accomplice.  
“You did such a good job on the floors, my dear,” he said, kissing her on the neck. The feel of his smooth lips, his warm tongue made her legs quiver. She didn’t know if it was the necklace’s spell or the hormones, but the Argonian was looking more and more handsome. She felt her gaze lingering on his strong arms, his soft amber eyes, his cute butt accentuated by his tail. Natasha mentally scolded herself and took a feather duster from an end table and set to work while Salazar watched. Dusting would keep her mind focused on the task at hand, she thought. She’d earn her captor’s trust and then she would make her move. 

Knowing he was watching made the repetitive chore interesting, Natasha lifted her tail and showed her smooth, perfectly curvaceous rump off for him. She even wiggled her hips to please him, and then she stopped when she realized what she was doing. She set the duster down as she felt his breath on the back of her neck. Salazar put his hands on her waist, his claws trailing down her hips. She could feel it, new ideas crawling into her head like ants. She had to get out of here, lest she spend the rest of her life doing housework.  
“Change me back.” Natasha demanded. 

Salazar’s deep yellow eyes widened, glinting sadly in the modest light inside the main hall.  
“Change you back? But I can’t do that!”

“And why not?” the lizard woman hissed at him. “Are you enjoying this? Making me into your little slave?”  
“I would never treat you like a slave!” The Argonian grabbed her by the shoulders. He was angry, but Natasha could feel that he was hurt by what she said. It was his eyes, his beautiful topaz eyes so warm and gentle. Was she really a captive?

“Listen to me,” Salazar said. “You are my wife.”

“I’m not a woman…” Natasha muttered, distracted by the pulsing, warm need between her legs.

“You are wearing a woman’s clothing, yes?” he said.

“Yes, but…”

“Then you are a woman, my wife. Why would a man wear women’s clothing?”

“You made me wear this.” The thief felt groggy and numb, like she was being anesthetized. Something about Salazar’s eyes made it hard to look away.

“Only because you are a woman. You are my wife.”

“But…”

“You are my loving wife, Natasha.” He said. A comfortable haze settled over her. He was so lonely in this house, he had to be. Natasha knew it because why else would he choose her?

“You are so handsome…” Natasha said, and she felt something snuff out of her memory like a candle in rain. Salazar ran his gentle, strong hand over Natasha’s head, his voice worming deeper into her consciousness with each word.

“You are my wife. You clean this house, cleanliness makes you happy. You cannot stand the sight of a mess.”  
“I cannot stand the sight of a mess,” Natasha muttered. It was true now. She knew he was trying to get in her head and that one little concession let him in deeper. Natasha felt herself mentally repeating everything he said. It was involuntary; she was no more able to stop it than to stop breathing.  
“You want to be a good wife. You want it more than anything, all you need is a little help.” As the Argonian spoke, Natasha felt the need in her body grow red-hot. Why was this so pleasurable? His smooth voice, his toned body, the fact he chose her of all lizard girls to be his wife, it made her blush. In seconds, her neediness grew into a deep longing she could not put into words or contextualize in her mind.

“Breathe. In and out,” he said, and Natasha obeyed.

“You want this. Deep down inside, you want be a good wife.” Salazar caressed under her chin, seeking out a kiss. Their lips met and Natasha felt a little more at home in her body. “Embrace your womanhood, your reptilian form.”

“I…” Natasha tried to say something, anything but any protest she could put together fell apart before it could leave her mouth. This was wrong, she knew it was wrong, but the part of her that knew was being drowned, forced into a smaller and smaller space in the back of her mind.  
“You’re going to be such a good wife. Just listen and relax.”

Natasha closed her eyes, taking deep breaths in and out… in and out. Each breath in introduced new ideas and feelings, and each breath out dragged her old life farther away. Her life as a thief was growing ever foggier, a series of blurred and indistinct images and names without clarity or significance. She heard Salazar’s voice echoing in her mind as a certain word repeated itself over and over.

“Wife”

Natasha shook her head. She had to fight it, a lot more was at stake than her reputation as… as a… what did she do before this? Salazar smiled at her and she adjusted her stockings. The Argonian, that big sexy specimen of reptilian manhood pulled down his under garments and his long, red shaft slid out of his genital slit. She should have been disgusted or at least shocked, but the sight of that slick, thick length made her womanhood hot with need. She shook her head, trying to remember something, anything from her past life but her life as a thief was going. 

“You’re still nervous? That won’t do.” Salazar said.

Going…

“You will relax and forget that silly thief thing.” Salazar said as he put his palm on the top of her head and eased her into a kneeling position. What happened next was impulse, almost instinct as Natasha took his cock in her mouth and ran her tongue up and down the underside of the eleven-inch organ. Salazar held her head in place as he bucked his hips forward gently, letting her take it in her mouth to the hilt. She could feel his musk overpower her palate and senses, it was a masculine yet smooth taste. Just like her husband, she thought. Salazar was masculine yet smooth. She coiled her tongue around his shaft, sliding it up and down, up and down as he whispered her name over and over again.

As she ran her tongue up and down his length, so did Salazar thrust in and out of her throat. Salazar reached down and began fingering her underneath her dress as she sucked. First it was just his claw tips tickling against her inner folds, and then as he saw Natasha moaning and squirming, he sank his first and middle finger deeper into her quivering sex. Pleasure exploded through Natasha’s body, her whole body shuddered as she ground her hips against his hand, not taking her mouth off of his cock. Salazar was getting close, she could feel it like they were an extension of each other. Her husband let out a strained growl and the both of them climaxed in perfect unison, filling the former thief’s mouth with his potent seed. He fell backwards, leaning against his chair panting and repeating her name. Natasha looked up at him, it had taken so long for her to see it. Salazar was such a kind man to take her into her home, to save her from a life of crime. 

“I love you,” he said to her. And Natasha stared into his deep golden amber colored eyes, feeling like the luckiest little lizard girl alive. “Will you be my wife?” Salazar said, taking her hands in his, his vibrant green scales perfectly complimenting the earthy olive green of her own.  
“I…” Natasha paused for only an instant. “Of course I’ll marry you!”

She jumped to her feet and embraced her husband, her perfect husband tightly, nuzzling her snout into his broad chest. The Argonian led his new bride to his bedchamber, closing the mahogany door behind them to consummate their marriage.  
It really did amaze her how quickly eight months passed. Natasha sat up in bed, the yellow satin sheets draped over her bare waist, her ample breasts hanging bare. She ran her hand up and down her gravid belly, heavy with their first clutch. Salazar placed his hands over hers, feeling the warmth of new life inside her. He gently nuzzled her neck and planted a soft kiss on her shoulder. She smiled and held his hand a little tighter, a placid happy calm settling over her. 

“How is the mommy to be?” He cooed, running his strong yet gentle hands over her matronly curve. “Figured out any names?”

“I was thinking of naming one of the boys Nyx.” Natasha said, “I dunno why, it just seems like a nice name.”

“That’s an unusual one… I like it.” Salazar coiled his tail around hers, licking her cheek softly. “I want to name one of the girls after you.”

“Oh stop,” she blushed and turned away from him, giggling like a schoolgirl.

“I mean it. I want one of the daughters named after you. Don’t you think that’d be nice?” 

Natasha giggled, “That’s so sweet of you.” 

She looked out the window, admiring the blue cloudless sky and the golden sunlight beaming in. Natasha watched as a pair of red-feathered songbirds built a nest together, layering and placing twig after delicate twig. That would be her and Salazar soon, she thought to herself. They were in their perfect little mansion and she was about to lay a perfect little clutch, the thought made the lizard woman’s heart race. 

She stretched her lithe arms and yawned, catching a glimpse of the pearl necklace resting on the nightstand, and for just a moment, she had a fleeting thought, a whisper in the very back of her mind telling her that this wasn’t her life, that something was wrong with all this. But then, she would look at her husband’s smile, and her soft scaly belly heavy with eggs, and she knew that she was exactly where she ought to be.


End file.
